


An Open Letter to Somebody Who Might Know Who They Are

by IAmWhelmed



Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: Happy Saint Patty's Day Have Some Feels, Isaac's mind gets away from him again, M/M, One-Shot, Romance, fluffy angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 09:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6278068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmWhelmed/pseuds/IAmWhelmed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’m graduating, after all. Yeah, I know it’s just to high school and I’ll probably see you around town and you’ll be attending the same school in another year, but maybe I won’t feel the same about you anymore. I’m hoping I don’t still feel like this a year from now, anyway. This year has been awful and it’s just as much your fault as it is mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Open Letter to Somebody Who Might Know Who They Are

“ _An open letter to somebody who might know who they are,_

 _It’s been a fun year, and I’m not sure what to say. Well, ‘fun’ is kind of a relative term, since you and I- we’ve been through a lot this last year. There were a lot of fights we just couldn’t win, and a lot of those fights were between the two of us. For a long time I thought that you just hated me. It made sense, because I’ve always thought everyone else did, too. I got petty and jealous and I’ve said a lot of things I didn’t mean because of it. For that, I’m sorry. Don’t get me wrong, you deserved it a lot of the time. You do nothing but make fun of my hobbies, laugh at the things that make me who I am… it’s a very long list, but that’s not what this is about. This is about me realizing that I wasn’t just hurt because you were an outsider who ended up just like the rest; I was hurt because you meant way more to me than I ever let you know, or let myself know, for that matter. These last few weeks I’ve been wondering if you would’ve been nicer to me if you’d known. Maybe you would’ve handled my feelings with kinder hands? Then I figured ‘nah, he wouldn’t have’. Even so, I should probably get this out of my system before the inevitable happens. I’m graduating, after all. Yeah, I know it’s just to high school and I’ll probably see you around town and you’ll be attending the same school in another year, but maybe I won’t feel the same about you anymore. I’m hoping I don’t still feel like this a year from now, anyway. This year has been awful and it’s just as much your fault as it is mine.

 

I need to tell you. I’ve never said it, but I watch your every move. I can almost hear you now ‘wow you are such a creep, go away stalker’. Yeah, you’re very funny, but listen. I watch the way you walk. You just have this way about you and I don’t think you’re aware of it. You’re aloof as can be, but your stride has this confidence to it I don’t think I could ever muster. Every step you take, it’s like you’re floating yards above everyone else on clouds they don’t even see. You’ve always had my full attention, whether you wanted it or not. I like the way you walk. It’s captivating. You’re captivating. I’ve never told you, because your ego is already big enough for your head and mine, but you are just so cool. The way you talk is cool. The way you dress is cool. I’m actually really jealous, you know? And it’s not that I want to be like you, more like I want to be next to you all the time. I want you to want me there, because that’s the only place I ever want to be. I’ve never told you about the way your voice just lights my entire body on fire. When you touch my wrist, I’m ready to just take your hand and follow you wherever. That drives me so crazy. I hate you so much, but I would come running if you asked and I hate it. I guess I’m just upset because I know you’d never ask. And it’s funny: every jab you take at my personality hurts, but not as much as knowing that I’m leaving this year. And I know; I know you’re not really going to miss me, but I need to tell you before I’m gone. I need to tell you I love you._

 

Suzy rarely sold their (one page) newspaper. The public didn’t like to read a whole lot about what goes on in the teacher’s lounge (lots of crying over test papers and coffee-grain snorting, apparently), and to an extent Suzy understood that. Suzy also understood that kids her age were suckers for drama and angst and all that business. That was why, when somebody wanted to anonymously submit their love letter to the Journalism Club, she was totally on board with it. She’d sold over fifty copies, already. Kids were gossiping about her newspaper like it was the hottest new tabloid- which it wasn’t- but hey, it was still honest journalism, and people would pay attention to the newspaper from then on. It was a win-win situation. Not to mention, the love letter didn’t take up a lot of space. There was still plenty of room for the stories she wanted to tell, and now people would eat those up too! She didn’t know exactly to whom the love letter was written, but she knew the secret admirer. She had been both surprised and not surprised at all. Light bulbs had gone off in her head, but only after the shock factor had settled in the pits of her stomach. Isaac O’Connor hardly seemed the type to write something gushy and romantic only to get it published. He’d always seemed kind of stand-offish, like he wanted to keep to himself. Suzy shrugged the thought off. She guessed she didn’t really know too much about him. She and Collin had a fold-up table set up in the lunch room before school, stacked high with what must have been over ten-dozen copies. They were going to be there all day, between classes and at lunch periods. Dimitri would come to collect the copies at the end of each selling period, hauling them back to the clubroom to lock them up safely like the precious stories they were. Collin was struggling to keep up with both the cash and the copies sold, scratching down the names of students he remembered selling to when he had the chance. That way, they’d know their market once copies sold out. Suzy was happy to just let him deal with the stress of it. He could handle it like he always did. She was much more interested in watching Isaac shuffle around awkwardly as the rest of the (cringe) Activity Club read the letter.

 

“Wow, that is the cheesiest freaking thing I think I’ve ever read.” Isabel gagged while Ed stuck his tongue out and held the paper as far away from him as possible. “What cheeseball thought this was a good idea?”  


 

“Well, it’s anonymous, right?” Isaac shifted his weight to the other foot, stuffing his own copy into his back pocket even though he hated folding it. Suzy had made him pay for it. In hindsight, it was the smartest thing for both of them. It made Suzy a little richer and Isaac a little less suspicious. His wallet still felt the sting, though. “Maybe they felt like it was the best option? This way nobody will make fun of them, you know?” That hadn’t really worked out, actually. Isaac was still being teased mercilessly for it. It was just that, now, he had to suffer in silence or risk even further humiliation.  


 

“Still, this is a little dramatic and soap-opera-y for some crush in middle school.”  


 

Ed took a second, but nodded in agreement with Isabel. He’d already whipped out his tool and started drawing on the paper, leaving crude pictures of butts and mustaches and butts with mustaches all over the romantic letter Isaac had poured his soul into. That was okay, though. He’d been expecting that kind of reaction from Isabel and Ed. They weren’t people who necessarily ‘got’ romance- at least not yet. He figured that around the time Ed started shaving his face and Isabel started carrying a purse, they’d get a little more mature and understand the magnitude of the word ‘love’.  


 

Isaac took a deep breath. They didn’t matter. They weren’t the ones he was worried about.  


 

He spared a furtive glance at Max, who was reading the letter with an expression Isaac could only describe as ‘completely disinterested in the reading material’. “What do you think, Max?”  


 

Max peeked up at Isaac from behind the newspaper, looking just as bored with the conversation as he was with the paper in his hand. Isaac held his breath, prepared for the worst. Knowing Max, the worst entailed a few insults that hurt, accompanied by a clean metaphorical sword through the heart. He’d known the risks of confessing, which was exactly why he confessed to a piece of paper instead. He’d known that nobody read the newspaper, but there was still the tiniest chance that Max would somehow end up reading it. He got the satisfaction of confessing without the same level of risk. Now, it looked like the whole school would have a copy, and the route with less risk had failed more spectacularly than he could have ever imagined.  


 

“I think it’s stupid.”  


 

There was the insult that hurt. Isaac shrugged it off and stuffed his hands in his pockets, glancing at his shoes. Maybe he was being a little obvious about writing the letter? Part of him, a part that was equally half masochistic and half stupid, wanted Max to catch on and figure out that it was him. There was a chance Max would take it easy on him, no matter how small the chance was. But then there was the chance that Max wouldn’t be delicate about it at all. There was the chance that he’d be even harsher because ribbing into Isaac was what he did. Isaac didn’t know if he would be able to handle that.  


 

“I see why Mystery Admirer wanted to confess anonymously, but it probably would have been a faster process to just tell this guy face-to-face. It’s obvious he’s got no interest.” Max crumbled up the paper in his hand and shot it like a basketball into the nearest trashcan. “Sure, it probably would have hurt more, but now they’re never gonna know what the truth was. All they’ve done is prolong the whole ‘healing process’ by a gazillion weeks, so good job to whoever they are.”  


 

And there it was- the sword straight through the heart.

 

Isabel laughed at something Ed had drawn, pointing out more space on the newspaper for him to draw another sketch of the new character Ed had dubbed ‘Buttstache Man’. He snickered and started on yet another fine work of art, grinning as wide as his cheeks would allow. “So, do you guys wanna grab some fast food after school? I just got some birthday money and it’s itching to be spent on a really good burger!” Isabel’s proposition came suddenly, as though something on Ed’s paper had reminded her of her deeply-seeded love for fast food restaurants.  


 

“Isabel,” Max could feel his face contorting to be just as disgusted as he felt “the last time you chose where we ate, there was literally a puddle of grease in the bag.”  


 

“Don’t be a baby.”  


 

“Don’t feed me like a fattened dinner.”  


 

The club started towards the exit, yammering on and on about where they’d go to eat. Isabel insisted on a burger joint and Ed, true to his surname, was more than supportive of her proposal. Max argued that they go somewhere that wouldn’t make him feel like he’d rolled around in a puddle of oil, like a taco joint. It wasn’t until they reached the staircase that they noticed Isaac had gone in the opposite direction and was headed down the hall. The three watched him curiously, waiting at the top of the steps for him to realize they were going a completely different direction.  


 

“Hey dude!” Isaac stopped and turned around at Max’s call, hands shoved so far into his pockets that his pants were falling from his waist. Max wanted to make a witty comment about sagging pants being an injustice against the eyes of the populace, but the joke was gone before he made the move to say anything. It wasn’t that funny anyway. They had an entire other week left for Max to snark at their resident drama queen. There would be other opportunities. “You get lost?”  


 

At first, Max didn’t realize that there was something odd in Isaac’s eyes. Max knew that look. He had something he wanted to say but couldn’t make up his mind. The ginger’s lips thinned as he wrestled for words, gears in his head turning so fast Max would have thought he’d seen steam pouring from his ears. “No, I’m not going that way. I need some time alone.” Isaac’s eyes were lidded, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the words in his throat. He was trying desperately to downplay whatever was on his mind. Max frowned and backed up a few steps, the typical question at the tip of his tongue. He was surprised to find Isaac refusing to look at him, instead tossing his glances between their other two friends and the floor. “I’ve got some healing to do.”  


 

Isaac was off down the hallway before Max’s mind could even catch up with reality, disappearing in the crowds of kids filtering through the halls on the way to their classes because the bell had rung. When everything finally clicked, and Isabel and Ed were whispering amongst themselves about the same conclusions he’d come to, Max felt his heart fall from his chest.


End file.
